Taking over Arkham Asylum
by Contriago
Summary: Although the Joker has been diagnosed with antisocial behavior, maybe, just maybe he could be taught to love. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1 Maybe he could learn to love

TITLE: Owning Arkham Asylum

Although the Joker has been diagnosed with antisocial behavior, maybe, just maybe he could be taught to love.

Chapter 1

Free him

It seemed impossible trying to teach someone an emotion. All we can do is explain it and even then the words don't come easy. There's not much else. We cannot force someone to feel something. And when you're neglected and beaten most of your life well, it's hard to love. Or even understand what love is.

I am a doctor serving at Gotham State Hospital five blocks away from Arkham Asylum. I decided when I was a child I wanted to one day work at Arkham. My father was abusive when I was little and it was after he died and I was placed with my mother that I had learned what love was. I felt free and light and my entire outlook on life had changed. And in that same moment that my mother had set me free, I knew that I wanted to share this feeling with others. I wanted everyone to feel it.

At the age of five my mother and father had gotten a divorce. My mother had received no custody and no visits. My father had filed a false claim that she was a drinker and it just so happened that social services walked in at the same time she had an afternoon drink. One drink every week was not an alcohol abuser. Anyway, my father got full custody and my mother had AA meetings every week trying to prove she was not an alcoholic.

During that time I was currently getting nice long beatings every night. Sometimes it was for things I did and other times it was because he was upset or tired from that day's work.

Years passed like this. My teachers every now and then would notice but said nothing after the first call to social services. My father after being questioned gave me the worst beating ever. Then everyone was silent, no one said a word.

A few years after that most horrible night, my father died after drinking four bottles of wine. The police came in, investigated and then checked up on my mother who came up clean for the last three years and they placed me in her care.

She was wonderful. She never hit me or beat me and when I brought it up she listened and smiled with understanding and love. Telling me it was all over and nothing like that would ever happen to me as long as she was there. She made me feel happy and free and showed me a whole new world that had been passing by without me in it.

My name is Elizabeth and I am 23 years old. I started work at the age of 20 and I helped determine peoples' mental health. A psychologist if you will. But not a therapist. I can't stand listening to everyone's sob story; I've been there, done that. If I had to hear my story from coming from another person, I'd risk losing the happiness I worked so hard to gain. I want to help people, not drown in their misery.

Schooling was fun as a child once I had gotten away from my father. Once I was ten years old and _had_ a better grasp of the world I asked my mother why my father had beaten me. She told me that he was sick and couldn't help it. From that point forward all I did was study psychology. I wanted to know what was wrong with my father. To try and understand him better. After all, he was still my father.

After high school I enter the field of psychology and after being the smartest in my class got a job at the Gotham General Hospital.

I first met the Joker late one evening, when Commissioner Gordon brought him in after Batman became wanted for killing Gotham's best DA, Harvey Dent. Batman had beaten him up quite a bit. With cuts and scrapes all over his face and chest. And horrifying bruises on his chest, sides, and legs.

The Joker was pretty torn up. Well, beaten up to me since I knew the marks, but I said nothing as the doctors wrote their reports, labeling the wounds as self inflicted. Afterwards, it was my turn to speak with him. Of course it wasn't just any pleasant conversation. I had to check his mental health. And let me tell you it was way out of whack. Finally after hours of trying to get him to speak I found the perfect thing to diagnose him with. I had written in the file that he suffered from a manic state of depression with delusions of grandeur. And likely an antisocial personality disorder as well.

Although the Joker had done several terrible things throughout his life my mind cold only see the poor man on the outside. And even though I felt sorry for him there was nothing I could do. They sent him to Arkham in the same hour as our meeting.

Weeks passed and all I could think of was how I had failed in giving him any happy thoughts or even simple advice. I could picture him in his cell, the poor lonely soul, just sitting in a padded room with nothing other than his thoughts and his straightjacket. It must be horrible in there: nothing to do, no one to talk to, no comfort, no love, no hope.

Nightmares soon followed, pictures of my father beating me again filled my mind and I soon knew that the Joker was caught in the same world as I was. A room filled with horrid thoughts and no happiness. Trapped as I had been. He needed to be shown happiness and love like I had been given to set him free. To help him escape the trapped world like I had been in. But first he needed to learn.

All I could think about, all I could see, hear, smell, feel, was his lonely horrid world. My lunch became the bland, cold meal he ate. My clothing felt constrictive, like the straightjacket he wore. My neighbors' constant bickering became the shrieks and howls of the inmates he was confined with.

A few words filled my head at work, at home, while I was struck in traffic. They were soon overshadowing everything else. The same phrase, over and over until I knew I had no choice but to act.

Free him! Free him! Free him! Free him!


	2. Chapter 2 Entering Arkham Asylum

_**Chapter 2**_

_**Checking into Arkham**_

_**After checking in to my works station I moved to do my work and froze when the voice came back. **_

_**FREE HIM!**_

_**I felt as light as air and with a strange feel to it. Like an out-of-body feeling as I floated down the hallways to my boss' door. Without knocking I opened the door.**_

"_**May I have a word with you Bert?" I asked. **_

"_**Yeah, sure, come have a seat." He said, stopping what he was doing and turning to give me his utmost attention. "What is it Lizzy?" he asked gently before rolling his pen nervously in his hands, knowing he had used the name I hated most. I shrugged it off.**_

"_**I need to be assigned to Arkham to see a patient." I said.**_

"_**Uh, Elizabeth, we already talked about this. You can't go to Arkham yet, you don't have anywhere near enough experience." He said.**_

"_**Not to stay. Just to speak with a patient. Just one and it'll only be for a week." I begged knowing this would put a huge damper on all the other workers since they had to fill in for my shifts.**_

"_**Will this one week kill your curiosity for that place?" He asked.**_

"_**Yes." I nodded.**_

"_**Very well. Which patient is it you want to see?" He asked.**_

"_**Patient?" I said, knowing if I gave him the name he would change his mind.**_

"_**The name, Elizabeth if you can't give me the name, I can't let you go." He said.**_

"_**The Joker." I said. The man had never given another name, not to me, not to anyone. I idly wondered if they called him the Joker in court, or whether he was a John Doe or some other pseudonym he'd hate.**_

_**He stiffened. "No, Elizabeth, absolutely not." He said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.**_

"_**Please I'll do whatever you want, double shifts day and night if I have to. I need to speak with this patient."**_

"_**Why are you so interested in criminals? You've been talking nonstop about how you want to go there and how you need to work over there and now, you want to speak with the worst psychopath there is in the world. I won't put you in danger. It's my job to keep my employees safe." he said.**_

"_**I'll sign a waiver saying that if I get injured it will be my own fault and then I can't sue you or the hospital**_** and the patient will be safe." I pleaded.**

"**Elizabeth, I can't let you over there to see Gotham's most wanted just for you to speak with him." He said shifting in his chair.**

"**Why not? It's only for a little while and I think I can help him." She said raising her hands in the air in frustration.**

"**He stole money, he blew up a hospital, he killed people and he threatened to kill more.**__**Is that not enough for you to understand what this man is? He's sick in the head and safe where he's at." Bert said slowly.**

"**Please Bert. My job means so much to me and I can change him. I know it. If anything happens to me then it will be my own fault. Please." I begged one last time.**

**Feeling sympathy for me he nodded.**

"**Fine. Grab your stuff. You start tomorrow." He said. It was obvious he wanted me at Arkham about as much as he wanted inoperable cancer or some other terminal disease.**

"**Thank you so much Bert." I yelled and ran out of the room. My heart was pounding so loudly I thought everyone around me could hear it. I was finally going to see the Joker, to talk to him as a human being and not as some patient to be shipped off like luggage. **

**And somehow the small but persistent voice in the back of my head got a little quieter. I suppose I must have started to satisfy it. Maybe tomorrow, when I finally met the Joker, I would be able to concentrate on something other than the constant cry inside my head: Free him! I'd be one step closer. **


	3. Chapter meeting the madman

**Chapter 3**

**Entering Arkham Asylum**

**I returned home that night and packed quickly. Everything I would need for a week. Then I turned in for the night. I slept peacefully for the first time in six long hard weeks.**

**I woke up early the next morning. My boss had come to drive me over since I didn't own my own car. Maybe he was worried it would be the last time he ever saw me alive. I could tell he still hated the idea of my temporary transfer. At least he didn't try to talk me out of it. ****He was disquieted, I knew, because he feared for me. Although we were not close in a relationship, he took his job as seriously as I did. And placing one of his employees, in a mad house, with little experience, was tearing him up pretty bad****.**

**As my boss pulled the car into the drive way of Arkham I felt my body shudder involuntarily. Something was not right. But I kept my mouth shut. I knew if I left now, I would never be able to sleep peacefully again. I stood and, forcing a smile, pulled out my luggage and moved to enter the building. He waited until I knocked on the door, probably to make sure I wasn't attacked by some escapee****,**** and then drove away. I missed him immediately.**

**The door opened and as I turned to greet what I thought would have been a nurse or a doctor, I found instead a man with a terrible scar on his face. Before I could even say anything, he grabbed me and, covering my mouth, pulled me inside.**

**It was dark but I could still make out several men. All around stood Gotham's most wanted. The man still held me and pulled me up two flights of stairs and through a few hallways before opening a door. Hysterical laughter that could only come from one man filled my ears.**

"**Well, well, well Liz. Long time, no see. What do you think of my new home?" he asked and through the darkness of the room, I saw the same broken man that I had seen at the hospital. His white face paint was carefully applied, black, asymmetrical circles darkened his eyes, and there was red on the lips and, of course, on the scars. There were no smears so it was safe to assume that the makeup was put on recently.**

"**Hello, Elizabeth, I'm glad you came to keep me company." He said and I shivered in his gaze.**

**His case file and two others lay strewn on the desk. The part that I had written, however, had been ripped off the end of the paper and posted on the wall. Instead of using a thumbtack, the Joker had pinned it there with a knife. He caught my eyes drifting to it and laughed.**

"**Yes, your little report has caught my attention." He said and stepped towards it before fingering it like anyone would finger a lost picture of someone they loved. **

"**Did I catch yours?" He asked without looking at me. He was three feet in front of me with no straight jacket and no forms of security to keep him from harming me whatsoever.**

"**Huh?" I said, still shocked at the thought of him being lose.**

"**Did I catch your attention?" He asked a little angrily before turning to look at me. A tinge of anger was in his eyes.**

"**I-I" I couldn't answer. "Where are the other doctors and nurses? Where is Dr. Arkham?" I asked all of a sudden, gathering courage. I knew his mental state and I knew that weakness was something you did not show an antisocial person. It would be like bleeding in front of a shark.**

"**Oh, here, there, around." He said, standing up straighter and placing a hand on his chin. He looked up at the ceiling as though he was deep in thought. He seemed very focused on nothing.****After he did not move from his position, I looked up and froze before letting out a horrendous scream. His hands were on my mouth and his mouth by my ear shushing me as I screamed into his gloved hands.**

**Far up above me, on the roof were three nurses and a doctor, all of which had been skinned and then redressed in their work clothes. Drops of blood that I had not noticed stained the carpet.**

**Shivering in his arms as he held me, he waited until I stopped screaming and then released me. I fell to the floor, just staring at the mutated bodies. He squatted down beside me and gently moved the hair out of my face. My hair was a dark blonde color and was semi-short, falling in my face at work all the time, and my glasses were black rimmed. He took my glasses and tucked them into the front pocket of my shirt. I was too scared to even think about moving while he was so close to me.**

"**Whatever did you come here for, doctor Elizabeth-uh?" he asked, wiping the tears away from my face.**

**I looked at him. "I came to speak with a patient," I said, not wanting him to know who.**

"**Which one-uh?" He asked. Standing and walking to the desk.**

"**I-I." It felt like just like when I had talked to Bert and had been reluctant to give up the Joker's name.**

"**Do you normally have a habit of not answering someone's questions, or is it just me?" He asked flipping through and throwing papers off the table. Until one caught his attention. He grabbed it and threw a leg over the arm of the chair before sitting down in it.**

"**I came to see Dr. Crane for advice about chemical brain function." I stated.**

**He caught my bluff, though. I knew he would and I lied anyway.**

"**Really now?" he asked, sitting up and leaning towards me.**

"**Really." I said.**

"**Then why does this paper in my hands state that you came to visit me?" He asked, holding out the paper that had granted my permission to visit Arkham. I looked at my lap.**

**He moved so quickly I didn't know he had moved until I felt a sharp pain in my head and noticed he had grabbed a fist full of my.**

"**It says you want to work here for a week. But I have a better idea." He said breathing harshly into my ear. I was pushed up against him, my back to his belly. "How about forever?" And then he laughed. I shivered at the thought of being locked here with him.**

"**I have other patients to attend. You can't keep me here." I said.**

"**Oh, nonsense. You have your doctor friends filling in for you over there." he said throwing me to the floor. I stood and moved towards the door.**

"**We're short staff here in Arkham, Ms. Elizabeth-uh. And I would be very displeased to find you leaving because of me. I want to show you to a patient who really needs some help and mental support right about now." He said and quickly grabbed my arm, knowing what I was about to do.**

**He pulled me close to him again. "AT Ta at!" He hissed in my ear and then began pulling me through Arkham.**

**Along the way, in company of the Joker, who was cruelly pulling me along through the madhouse, men beat each other, other biting one another, several roughhousing and wrestling on the floor. Every cell was open Screaming could be heard down every hall, whether it was in pain or victory, I did not know. Trying to avert my attention from the beastly men I looked up at the ceiling and realized my mistake, for the second time. For there on the roof rested forks and knives, as my eyes traveled down, I noticed several more in walls. The Joker finally stopped at a white door and on it read ISO, standing for ISOLATION. He pulled out a card key with the picture of Doctor Arkham on it and slid it into the door.**

**Once the door was open he pulled me in behind him. And there, sitting tied to a chair with blood running from his nose and down his face, was Dr. Arkham.**


	4. Chapter 4 First night at Arkham

Chapter 4

Staying at the Madhouse

Dr. Arkham looked at me and then slowly moved his eyes back to the Joker, who circled him twice, before leaning down close to his face. Their noses couldn't have been more than four inches apart.

"Dr. Arkham was kind enough to sign the paper to allow you over here…" The Joker said, referring to me but not breaking eye contact with Dr. Arkham, whose breathing had changed drastically. He was panting now. Staring into the madman's eyes knowing he was in danger.

"Are you scared Dr. Arkham?" He asked leaning into Dr. Arkham's ear before leaning back while waiting for an answer. when Dr. Arkham just stared he took out his knife and ran it along Dr. Arkham's jaw line down to his chin and then down to the end of his throat. Dr. Arkham shivered at the feeling and glanced at me before letting his eyes glide back to the madman in front of him.

"Are you gonna answer me?" He asked nodding his head at Dr. Arkham. Dr. Arkham remained silent. The Joker switched hands with the blade and then lifting his now empty hand raised it and smacked Dr. Arkham, hard, on the cheek.

"No?" The Joker asked. He smacked him again. "You need to say something so that our new doctor can analyze your mind." The Joker said. He then raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head before leaning in with his hand cupped over his ear, as though listening intently for an kind of sound that Dr. Arkham had to offer. No noise came, except for Dr. Arkham's hard breathing. The Joker leaned forward and smacked him again, harder then the first time.

"Let him go." I said almost in a whisper. In my fear of the Joker's presence my throat had gone dry.

"Let him go?" He said keeping bent over but turning towards me. I backed up into the corner.

"Let him go?" He said and then burst out laughing before standing and coming at me. I closed my eyes and turned my head away. He grabbed me by the hair and, shaking in order to control his rage, turned my head to face him.

"The fun's only getting started. So you might as well enjoy it." He said and then, leaning into my ear, he licked it and I jumped before moving my hands to push him away from me.

"I rule Arkham Asylum now, in case you hadn't noticed. And everything I say goes. And here's what I say: NO ONE GOES UNLESS I SAY SO!" He shouted in my ears so loud I thought I would be deaf for the rest of my life. And then he let me go before moving over to Dr. Arkham.

He smacked Dr. Arkham in the face and when I moved closer the Joker grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out the door.

"You can't do this to people." I said.

"Why, yes your highness, you are quite right." He pushed me into one of the open cells and closed the door. Bringing out Dr. Arkham's card he locked the cell door. "Is that better?" He asked.

"No! Let me out! This is wrong. These patients need help. Look at them. They're tearing the place apart." I said gesturing to the area around us.

He looked and laughed as a man in blue jeans got stabbed with a sharpened, stick while another man laid on top of him laughing, as the man in jeans cried out in pain. He turned his attention back at me. "Enjoy your stay here at Arkham; dinner's at six." He said and laughing, waved and walked off towards Dr. Arkham's office.

"Joker!" I called after him as loud as I could. My yelling fell on deaf ears. And so did the pleas and cries three hours later when my throat had gone too dry to yell anymore. I lay on the cold dirty floor waiting for him to free me from my hell hole. Or at least get me some water.

I started to drift off, my eyes drooping and getting heavy with the heat of the room. Warm and cozy. So very warm. I let my body take what it wanted. Falling into a deep slumber. My first night at Arkham Asylum. Not bad for the first day of work. If you could call it that. (sarcasm.) I was really upset at the whole situation. Of being held against my will. At watching him hurt people for fun and my emotions were running amuck. Would the day ever end?

Patient: Joker

Personality: Antisocial behavior with depression and grandeur…..

I could fix him. He needed me to. He was so bad off without it. He needed it. I could give it to him. However, he would need a whole lot of help, and I was unsure if I was the right person to do it. The first time I had met him, I knew I could do it. But now that I was under him rather ontop of the situation I knew there was a chance I could fail.


	5. Chapter 5 Breakfast with the madman

**Chapter 5**

**Breakfast with the Madman**

**I was woken by the sound of someone hitting the bars of the cell. I opened my eyes to see the Joker leaning on the bars of my cell and tapping part of the lower bar with his knife. I sat up and composed myself a little.**

"**Finally. I thought you were dead already. I surely was after the first hour of boredom." He said and slid the card key in and the gate opened. He stepped in and took my arm before leading me out.**

"**Where are you taking me?" I asked. My voice was cracking because of my still-dry throat.**

"**Why, to breakfast of course." He said and led me down the hall to Dr. Arkham's office. He pulled the door open and began to walk inside, trying to pull me in.**

**I pulled back.**

"**Come on." He said and tried again. It wasn't like I was stronger than him or anything. He just was pulling me, more like guiding me then demanding me.**

"**I can't eat in there." I said.**

"**You mean you won't have breakfast with me?" He asked, his lower lip ****stuck out in a ****pout. In the same instant he bit his lower lip and grabbed my hair before pulling me again. I kneed him in the groin as hard as I could and he released my hair. I turned to run but he grabbed my arm and pushed me to the ground. Straddling me from behind, he pulled my head back using my hair.**

"**Who came to see me?" He whispered in my ear.**

"**I did," I said.**

"**Yes you did. Now you will join me for breakfast or starve," He said.**

"**Why are you keeping me near you? What's the point?" I asked.**

"**Because you amuse me," he said and got up before pulling me up behind him.**

"**I don't think that's your reason," I said and flinched when his hand tightened around my arm causing it to numb almost instantly.**

"**You wanted to see me. Here I am. Any other complaints can be left on a card by the front door on your way out. Oh, yeah. Now I remember! You're not gonna leave here, ever," He said and he pulled me into the room.**

"**Please, you're hurting me." I said as he jerked me harshly. He turned to pull me into the door.**

"**Oh well, I tried it the nice way. Too bad for you it wasn't good enough. We'll now be doing it my way." He said and practically threw me into one of the chairs that were in front of the desk. My diagnosis of him was still pinned to the wall.**

**He sat down behind the desk and two men entered the room, carrying two plates of eggs and toast. One man gave me a plate and the other one gave the other plate to the Joker before handing us each forks and leaving. I shivered and tried my best not to think about the people up on the ceiling, let alone look at them again.**

"**They're not up there. Not anymore, "The Joker said, sensing my displeasure of the room. I looked up and ****sighed in relief****. There was no sign of anyone ever being up there.**

"**Why don't you start working?" he said. I stabbed one egg piece and put it in my mouth. I looked at him in confusion.**

"**What do you mean 'start working'?" I asked.**

"**You said you wanted to work over here and speak with me. So start speaking." He said, shoveling a fork full of eggs into his mouth. Showing me more then I needed to see when he chewed.**

"**I don't know what you want me to say." I said.**

"**Say what you came to say." He said with his mouth full, shoving more eggs in. The man shoveled in food like a hungry hippopotamus.**

"**I want to know more of where you come from." I said.**

"**More of where I come from…. I came from my mother and father…Or maybe from a stork. Or an egg." he started. Then he looked down at his plate of scrambled eggs.**

"**No, no, no. Not that way. I meant as a child. What was life like? Were your parents nice to you? Did they abuse you? Tell me about your childhood and family life." I said gathering more eggs up on my fork before putting them into my mouth.**

"**Oh, that stuff. Well, Daddy was an alcoholic and one night he goes off crazier than usual…."**

"**I already heard that story. You told it to some poor old man at Dent's fundraiser. It was in the paper; everyone in Gotham's heard it. I want to know the truth."**

"**There is no truth. What you see is what you get. If you came over here just to find out about my mommy issues, you're in for a huge disappointment because I don't remember. I just popped up one day just the way I am. But happy none the less. The person you see before you is all there is. Nothing else." He said and shoved the toast into his mouth.**** He tore into the bread like a crocodile.**

**It was a sad reality for me to accept but for some reason I knew it was true. For some odd reason all he wanted was a happy little world of his own. Which was what he got after he escaped whatever torture he had been through. He had made his own world to escape his last unhappy one.**

"**I didn't mean to offend you." I said finishing off the plate a few moments later.**

"**Yes you did. Everyone does." He said.**

"**No I didn't," I said, not sure if I was trying to reassure myself or him.**

"**Sure you did," He said pointing the fork at me threateningly. I put my fork down and stared at him.**

**God, I have so much work to do here.**

"**Why are you against everyone all the time? You're always paranoid like everyone's out to get you and it's not like that." I said.**

"**Really? Elaborate." He said taking another bite of his toast. His other hand still held the fork with white knuckles.**

"**Dr. Arkham…" I started.**

"**Tried to poison me." He finished.**

"**I don't believe that." I said. He stared at me. And then he stood up and moved to a locked safe that was in the corner. Something I hadn't noticed before. He pulled out a pill container and his case file. He slammed them down on the table next to me, which made me jump.**

"**Read page five-uh." I could tell he was irritated.**

**I opened the file and read it slowly, taking in the words of Dr. Arkham.**

"**The patient J has been treated with Paxil and Wellbutrin but has no change in mental health. Although Paxil and Wellbutrin are two of the strongest psychiatric medicines available, I want to double the dose. We may then see some positive changes in his personality."**

"**He was trying to kill me. The medicine I took was so strong, I sat in my cell puking for a day. That's when I knew what he did." He said, arms behind his back as he watched my expression.**

"**I highly doubt he was trying to kill you; many medicines have negative side-effects. It doesn't mean they would kill you," I said. He grabbed me by my throat and pinned me to the back of the chair.**

**He was shaking again. Trying to control the rage inside.**

"**Are-uh you calling me a liar?" He asked. His nose was touching mine. He licked his lips and his eyes stared deeply into mine.**

"**N-no I just don't think…"I started.**

"**You're right, you don't and you're gonna have to start." He said and, grabbing my arm roughly again, he let go of my throat. I started coughing as the pressure was relieved. He dragged me down the hall to the same cell that I had slept in.**

"**No. Not in there again. Please," I begged.**

"**Oh, yes in there. You can stay in there until you learn to be nicer to your boss. You don't want me to fire you, do you? Because when I 'fire' someone, uh, I really use fire****,****" he locked the door and, laughing, went back to his office.**


	6. Chapter 6 No plan

**Chapter 6**

**What He Wanted**

**I sat in the cell and waited for him to let me out. I rested my head on my folded arms and drew my legs up to my chest. Apparently, though I didn't know it or I would have covered myself****, ****if you stood to the side of the cell, you could see up my skirt. Several of the boys who had been wrestling stared for a while. A few minutes passed before they were at the bars, reaching in and whistling to me. Trying to get my attention. I ignored them and cried into my arms. I had sensed something bad upon entering and yet I had ignored my instincts.**

**And now look at the mess I was in. I was dirty, I was frightened and in no shape to do any work. Let alone try and think of a way to escape the Joker.**

"**Get away from the bars unless you want your eyes cut out and given to her." A voice shouted and startled me. I looked up to see the Joker standing three feet from the bars, his men scrambling away as fast as they could to get away from him. He held a knife in his hand and took a few steps forward till he was where his men were moments before.**

"**Thank you." I whispered looking up at him.**

"**You shouldn't tease them so. They are men after all." he said and slid his arms in between a few bars before leaning forward and relaxing his body there. He was watching me intently. It was strange because he had never looked at me like this. His eyes dilated and staring as though he was pleased with me but never wanted to say it for fear of giving me some sort of false hope.**

"**Can you fix the way you're sitting? I'm not as weak for, uh, sex as some of the animals, but you're making me horny." He said after a moment and then I realized with embarrassment that he had been staring at my underwear. I shifted my legs quickly so that my panties disappeared beneath my skirt.**

"**Did you come here to peep to or is there something you need?" I said, fidgeting with my hands.**

**He reached inside of his jacket before pulling out Dr. Arkham's cardkey and unlocked the cell's door. He stepped inside, looking at the walls as he did so, ignoring me kneeling on the floor. He slid the cardkey back into his jacket pocket and then put his knife away also.**

"**Why did you really come here?" He asked, still not looking at me.**

"**I wanted to learn about you and hopefully help you." I said, dropping my eyes to the ground.**

"**Help me? Help. Me. You're crazier than I thought." He said. **

"**The moment I saw you battered and broken, I knew that I would be able to help you. I have been successful at helping lots of other patients. At the time I thought you were no different than any other patient. That all you needed was someone to understand and help you." I said, tears filling my eyes at the realization of my failure and foolishness.**

"**And what do you think now?" He asked finally turning his attention to me.**

**I looked at him. He seemed so serious.**

"**I don't think anyone can help you. You've been broken far too many times and for too long to ever be fixed." I said in almost a whisper. "But in the weeks after we first met, I dreamt and waited for the opportunity to get to you. You're going to keep me here forever aren't you?" I asked, already knowing the answer. I covered my mouth and began to cry as silently as possible, unable to hold in another emotion any longer. I fed into this monster.**

"**No, no, no, no, no." He said bending down and pulling my hand away from my face and staring into my tear stricken face, he brushed a few of the tears away, before looking me in the eyes. I stopped crying at his words. He was going to let me go eventually. I would see home again. My heart filled with hope that it would be soon, but only for a second.**

"**Just until we're ready to move to my complex." He said and then burst out laughing.**

"**You monster!" I shouted, pulling away from him.**

**He pulled me up to him. Standing, he held me three inches off the ground. His smiled soon faded from his face, and I too tired to fight. I just held onto his wrist, waiting for him to just drop me. I waited to feel myself land on the floor like a discarded toy doll, but it didn't happen. As I looked in his eyes I saw the same strange gleam in them that I had seen when he was staring between my legs. With one quick movement, he pulled me close to his face and kissed me. I pushed against his chest, but his other arm, wrapped around my waist and held me to him.**

**When the kiss was finished, he continued to hold me to him. He just watched me, trying to read my emotions. I couldn't have looked very happy; he had just kissed me without any sort of warning, and he had breath like a dog. I suppose the yellow teeth should have been a clear warning sign that the Joker didn't often meet up with toothbrushes.**

"**What's your plan, then? Rape?" I said.**

"**There is no **_**plan**_**. You'll just have to wait and see what I have in mind." He said and let me go suddenly. I almost fell to the floor, barely getting my legs under me in time. He moved quickly to the door and unlocked it before leaving me in the cell by myself again.**

**Shivers ran down my back as he turned to look at me once last time and then turned his back to enter the room that was currently holding Dr. Arkham hostage.**

**I watched and waited, wondering if he was hurting Dr. Arkham. Thoughts of the nurses and doctor hanging from the ceiling in his office filled my head and I moved back to the position I was in before, legs to my chest, head in arms.**

**Would this ever end?**


	7. Chapter 7 Tending to Dr Arkham

I'm so tired, I probably made a million mistakes. Sorry.

Chapter 7

Looking at the Doctor.

I was being shaken awake rather harshly. And of course the man who was behind it all was none other than the Joker. As far as wake-up calls went, this was as bad as they could get.

"What?" I all but shouted at him before sitting up.

"Dr. Arkham had an, uh, unfortunate accident and requires immediate medical attention. That means hurry up." He said while licking his lips, a smug smile on his face while he did it.

"My God, what did you do to him now?" I asked. I was standing and waiting for him to bring me to Dr. Arkham so I could see the damage.

"Me?" He said, disbelief in his voice, as though he was innocent and I was accusing him of something.

"Yes you. I went to sleep and you went in the room with the doctor. What happened?" I asked while he pulled the door open for me. I stepped out and waited for him to lead me down the hall. I was too afraid to rush off ahead of him and get caught by one of the madmen, or worse, make him think I was trying to escape.

He quickly walked down the hall, and slid the cardkey into the slot causing the door to chime and open. We both rushed inside. I gasped and my back hit the wall behind me as I quickly tried to rush back out of the room.

Dr. Arkham lay on the floor. His hands were tied in front of him. He lay on his belly, his head drooping to the floor. Blood spread in a giant smile around him. Some was on his face. His entire back was covered in gore and his shirt was in tatters. I stepped forward carefully. He lifted his head to look at me. There was fear in his eyes and a silent plea there as well. He needed help. I moved forward and grabbed a piece of his ruined shirt before wiping some of the blood off his back. The Joker just stood smiling in the corner of the room, watching my every move silently.

As the cloth absorbed the blood, more appeared from open wounds. Obviously made by a knife, of course. Letters appeared in the earlier wounds. Once they all dried you could read:

"Why so serious," In huge capital, zigzagging letters.

While I cleaned his skin, Dr. Arkham kept his eyes on the Joker. Fearing he would attack him again while I was in the room. I shivered at the thought of having to watch him at work. I think I would faint if he so much as breathed near Dr. Arkham right now.

"Why did you do this?" I asked, examining the wounds to see how bad they really were.

"Because you're missing the point! While you're working here, I'm the boss. I do as I want when I want and well, I needed the tape to send to my dear dark delusional knight. He thinks he can come in here and take Arkham away from me. After all the good I did for the poor inmates! He's forgetting one very important thing. While I have you and Dr. Arkham, I will be in charge." He said, licking his lips and grabbing the chair that Dr. Arkham had been tied to yesterday. He sat in it, staring at the two of us.

"I can't treat these wounds. He needs a medical doctor, not a psychiatrist." I said, trying to think of a way to get Dr. Arkham out of here alive. I knew the Joker would heed my warning if I sounded frightened, giving him a little taste of what he wanted from me. He could have fear; submission was out the question. I refused to be his pet.

"Well, that's too bad. We're short on staff so you'll have to do your best." He said. Folding his arms across his chest and leaning back. He licked the side of his mouth. My eyes met his for a moment in an open challenge.

"He'll die if he doesn't get help." I said trying to sound more desperate. "Please, don't let him die." I said, hoping I didn't sound like I was trying too hard.

"I know-uh…," he cleared his throat and tilted his head, narrowing his eyes, before continuing, "What you are doing."

"What?" I asked, not sure what he was talking about.

He jumped at me from the chair and had me pinned against the wall and his body in a matter of seconds.

"Don't try and play me for a fool, Lizzy." He said. He tightened his grip and cut off my air supply.

"I know every trick in the book. I've been there. I've done that. I've put people through the same paces you are going through. You're afraid. You're unstable and your next thoughts will be of helping get him free and then they will be of your own escape. Don't try it. It won't work." He said.

I nodded, unable to answer him by voice because of the lack of air.

"Help him as best as you can and then go back to your cell and sleep. That'll be all I need out of you for the day." He said letting me go. I slid down the wall gasping and choking for air.

He left the room, leaving Dr. Arkham and I all alone.

"I'm sorry." I said, knowing I had failed this part of the game.

"Don't be." Dr. Arkham said.

The door opened and the Joker walked in handing me a dirty rag and a first aid kit.

"Patch him up and return to your cell." He said, handing me one of the old nurse's cardkeys.

I looked at him and grabbed the cardkey. He grabbed my wrist and twisting it, pulled me up to stand again. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me to him.

His mouth was at my ear, his horrid breath filling my nostrils with its rancid scent. "And don't-uh, try to escape. If I find you gone, you don't want to know what happens to the doctor." He said before letting me go and leaving the room.


	8. Chapter 8 Why so stresseduh?

**Chapter 8**

**Why So Stressed?**

"**Are you still hurting?" I asked Dr. Arkham after I had finished dressing the wounds.**

"**Yes." he said. I can't say I was surprised.**

**I leaned forward and looked at his wrists. To my disappointment I found handcuffs on him. If it had been rope or duct tape or something else, I could have loosened it or maybe even found a way to cut it off. With handcuffs, he was stuck.**

"**Do you have any family?" I asked him sitting back on my heels.**

"**I have a wife. But I'm afraid that I will never see her again." he almost whispered, tears filling in his eyes.**

""**Don't say that. I'm sure when the Joker's had his fun and he's ready he will let us go. He's just gathering allies here. Once he finds enough henchmen****, ****he'll leave." I said in a reassuring voice. But whether it was to comfort me or Dr. Arkham, I wasn't sure.**

"**Do you honestly think he'll let us go?" Dr. Arkham said. There was a hint of anger in his voice that startled me.**

"**In the end, he'll have to let us go. I mean, he can't drag us along forever. I'm sure of it." I said touching my hand to my chest.**

"**How can you be so sure?" He said glaring at me.**

"**Because of the Batman. He always comes for those who need help and I highly doubt that it will go unnoticed that the Joker took over Arkham Asylum. We just need to wait this out." I said.**

**I knew I had to leave the room soon or the Joker would get pissed. I stood and looked at the broken man on the floor.**

"**Hang in there." I said and moved to the door before leaving.**

**Standing with my back against the door I fell to the floor crying. Dr. Arkham was right. How could I be so sure? No one had noticed that the Asylum had been overrun by the Joker and its inmates. And Batman wasn't coming for that reason. We were both dead. Gathering up my sorrow and turning it to anger, for the Joker and what he had done to Dr. Arkham and me, I stood and moved down the hall quickly, with great determination.**

**Standing outside of Dr. Arkham's former office, with shaking hands, I slid the nurse's card key in the slot and threw open the door before yelling, "Joker, you…" I stopped short before freezing. The Joker stood behind the desk with his pants down, a strong erection in his hands.**

**He smiled as I stared.**

"**See something you like?" He asked, teasing me, before sliding himself into his pants and zipping up. Too embarrassed and shy to move, all the anger was gone for a moment, replaced with utter mortification. I stepped forward, the anger coming back at the thought of Dr. Arkham.**

"**Haven't you heard of knocking? You know it's rude to barge into someone's office, especially when they're busy." he said sitting down in the chair behind him.**

"**Busy, what? Masturbating while someone dies on the floor in another room?" I shouted, letting the anger flow in hopes of winning this conversation. Perhaps fighting might let me win. If only I could stand my ground.**

"**I'm under a lot-uh of stress right now." he said while pointing a finger at me. His hand was shaking.**

"**Well I would be too if I spent as much time as you did causing chaos and killing people." I all but shouted while walking over to his desk. I was now two feet away from him. Both of our bodies were shaking in rage.**

"**You have no idea what you are saying. Chaos and, uh, killing people, that's fun. Not that you'd understand. I bet you've never even tried it. It's the business end that's so stressful." he said, coming around the desk to face me. I was three inches from him now.**

"**That's why I came here. To help you handle that stress and hopefully help you get out of here legally. I fought to come here and now I don't want to be here with you. Not when you are like this." I shouted.**

**The room was filled with the resounding smack as his hand met my face.**

"**Don't you ever talk to me like that. I am your boss, you do as I say." He said.**

**I held my face in my hands at the mere shock of the hit. He had never hit me before. He was becoming more violent. And I had been the cause of it. I was not helping him. I was making him worse. But why? How? I had never failed to help a patient before. They either reacted to submission or to violence. I had tried both with the Joker and had gotten the same outcome both times. Why couldn't I fix him?**

"**Go back to your cell now! Before I take you there myself." He said, pointing to the door. I turned. My hand was still on my burning cheek and as I opened the door slowly. Before leaving, I looked back at his shaking form, which was leaning against the desk, his breath heavy. Then I left, silently shutting the door behind me.**

**I did exactly as he asked and went straight to my cell before crying myself to sleep. I had to think of a way to get Dr. Arkham out of here and fix the Joker. Both tasks so hard to do. And yet I was determined to get them done. Although I had little belief in myself now that I knew he would always win until he himself wanted to change. I had to make him want to change. I had to make him lose his own game and then when he was in utter failure, comfort him and help him win in order to change himself. But would he let me help him?**


End file.
